The Mixtape of a Quirkless Midoriya Izuku
by Tell-Tale Toga
Summary: A series of songs put to the story of our beloved Izuku thrown into and trying to escape a version of his life where things did not go as planned.


**The song used in this chapter is **Hurt by Johnny Cash.

* * *

_**I hurt myself today to see if I still feel**_

_**I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real**_

Izuku Midoriya had no recollection of falling asleep on a cold, hard floor, but that was where he was when he opened up his eyes. The more consciousness he gained, the more questions arose in his mind regarding his surroundings and entire state of being. In order from least to most concerning details, waking up on the floor was actually rather low. Just above that was the fact that he did not recognize the room he was in.

Next, a chair was lying on its side next to him. Then, there was a rather large jump in severity between that observation and the next. His throat and his whole neck in general actually hurt immensely. He was so sore and when he brought his hand up to attempt to rub the ache away, he gasped and froze at what he felt.

Looking down, he saw it. The worst part of waking up this way. A rope. More specifically a noose hung loosely around the pro-hero's neck. Nothing about the scene suggested foul play, but a suicide attempt.

_**The needle tears a hole, The old familiar sting**_

_**Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything**_

What... was happening? Izuku sat up immediately, scrambling to get the rope off of him as if it were a venomous snake. With all his might and a fearful grunt, he flung the rope across the scarcely decorated room. Panic arose and he began to lose control of his breath, hyperventilating as his gaze shot from one corner of the room to the other.

There was no trace of anything All-Might or even pro-hero on the walls or anywhere. The uniform of your typical beat cop hung in the place he'd normally hang his Deku costume. With fear and confusion in his eyes, Izuku grunted as he regulated his breathing just enough to stand on his feet. That's when he noticed the picture frame facing down on the nightstand, alongside a small stack of his Campo notebooks.

Terrified of what he might find, ready to reject any more evidence that pointed to this being his place of residence, Izuku moved toward the picture. He knew in his heart that this was all real, that he wasn't dreaming. He knew whatever image he was about to face was one he simply was not prepared for. After his hand settled on the velvet back and he took a deep breath, Izuku lifted the metal-framed photo and choked back tears as he saw the smiling faces it held.

_**What have I become, my sweetest friend**_

_**Everyone I know goes away in the end**_

The photo showed himself... but it captured a memory he did not recall. On his shoulders there sat a sweet-faced little girl, nuzzling his hair with her pink, freckled cheeks. She had his smile, grinning with one eye shut. Green eyes. Brown hair. Made sense given the young woman standing next to him.

Without thinking much about his actions at this point, Izuku reached out and touched the glass with his fingertips. Looking into her gentle smile, even just a picture, seemed to calm him. He inhaled deeply and breathed out her name in a whisper.

"Uraraka."

_**And you could have it all my empire of dirt**_

_**I will let you down. I will make you hurt**_

Where the picture frame rested on its face, Izuku saw a standard-sized piece of paper folded once down the middle. He reached for it, placing his thumb on the inside crease, flipping the top half of the page up to read its contents. The words written were most definitely his handwriting, but they spoke of pain he never endured, regrets he never experienced. It was all so surreal how familiar and foreign everything so simultaneously was.

Obviously, it was a suicide note. There were no answers to be found in these last words. Though officially addressed to no one in particular, the letter mostly just made one vague apology after another to his mother, to his... mentor... Tsukauchi Naomasato? And most frequently to Uraraka, his... apparently soon-to-be ex-wife and their three-year-old daughter, Ichika.

Nothing he knew to be true meant anything in that moment, but last Izuku checked, he was twenty-two years old. If that much remained the same here, it meant he and Uraraka must have started a family fairly soon after graduating UA. Of course, as he continued reading the suidice note, Izuku soon learned that it was bold of him to assume this version of himself even attended such an elite school. No, in fact, this was a reality where, he discovered...

"No," Izuku said aloud in shock and dismay as his blood ran cold, and he attempted to use his quirk... to no avail.

**_I wear this crown of thorns upon my liars chair_**

**_Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair_**

Quirkless. He was quirkless here. Not All-Might's successor. Not one of UA's once big three. Not Deku. Not Japan's number one hero. Not among the new generation of pillars of peace.

Plain. Old. Quirkless. Midoriya Izuku.

How, the ever-loving hell, could this happen? Quirkless aside, how did he end up in a rundown, empty apartment with a failed suicide attempt around his neck, married and nearly divorced from a woman he dearly cared for and respected, but never considered that way... fathering a child with said friend and evidently failing so miserably at all of it. This wasn't real. This wasn't home.

He had to get out of this, find a way back to the life he built for himself, the one he worked so hard to earn. This wasn't right. This wasn't him. It wasn't. It wasn't. Whoever he was in that moment... it was not Midoriya Iz-

"Izuku?" A voice came from beyond his closed bedroom door. One that was warm and welcome. Something familiar, second only to the bizarre family photo with Uraraka. "Izuku, sweetheart? Are you home? You left your door unlocked again. How many times do I have to tell you that's dangerous."

_**Beneath the stains of time the feelings disappear**_

_**You are someone else, I am still right here**_

Far more tearfully and pathetic than he intended to sound, Izuku cried softly, "Mom," as he dropped the letter, barreled for his bedroom door and swung it open. Thinking quickly, he stepped out of the doorway and shut behind him the sight of his apparent desire to die.

His mother stood in the kitchen with a startled look on her face as she slowly placed a few grocery bags on the counter. "Sweetie, wha-" she abruptly cut herself off as something clearly stole her attention. Without another word she approached him, took his chin firmly but carefully in one hand and placed the other tenderly on his neck. Her eyes assessed the mark then shot up to meet his gaze. "Izuku, what happe-" but she cut herself off again, backing away from him.

"Mom," he repeated somehow sounding even more helpless than before.

She shook her head, taking another step back. "No," she trembled. "You're not my boy. Wh... who are you?"

_**What have I become, my sweetest friend**_

_**Everyone I know goes away in the end**_

"How... How do you know that?" Izuku could only imagine how bewildered he must have looked in that moment. He would have never assumed it'd be so easy to tell him from the Midoriya the saw in the photo.

His mother's voice began to lose its edge of fear as it grew firmer and more demanding. "I know my son! Where is he? What have you done with him?"

"No, I didn't- I don't- I don't know." Izuku tried his best to answer honestly. "I don't know why this is happening. I just... woke up here... in this apartment... in this world and I don't... I don't know why!" He felt himself starting to panic again so took another deep breath. "Please, help me, Mom. Please."

_**And you could have it all, my empire of dirt**_

_**I will let you down, I will make you hurt**_

What was fear that had transformed into something more fierce, then melted into compassion and pity. She had no good reason to believe him, but somehow she did and Izuku felt such relief. Their expressions communicated everything and Izuku couldn't help but take a large step forward and embrace this reality's version of his mother.

She held him, ran her hand through his hair, and hushed him lovingly as he wept. "Come now," she eventually said with such patience. "You're going to need to know a few things about my poor boy."

_**If I could start again, a million miles away**_

_**I will keep myself, I would find a way**_


End file.
